Bounder. Coward. Dastard. Alaric called himself several other names as he went in search of his oldest daughter. What had he been thinking to kiss Jane like that? It was ridiculous, unconscionable.

Some of the finest moments of his life.

He willed his speeding pulse to slow, his breath to come evenly. He knew the excitement of passion—he’d sired three daughters and a son, after all. But nothing had prepared him for the way he had reacted when his lips had met Jane’s. He’d wanted to press her close, shower kisses across her cheeks, her mouth, protect her and cherish her all the days of his life. These were not the thoughts an employer should hold for his employee.

Even if he was finding it hard to remember she was an employee.

He shook the emotions away. It didn’t matter how he felt about Jane, his admiration of her inventiveness, her optimism, her speaking eyes and ample curves. He had obligations, duties, one of which was to marry again. She was not the woman he needed for his duchess and the mother of his children. Like his mother, that woman would have to reign over Society with grace, aplomb. She must command servants with a quirk of her brow, inspire devotion with a smile. The formidable Duke of Wey needed an equally formidable Duchess of Wey.

Besides, he had no business interjecting intimacies he had no intention of honoring in marriage. That wasn’t fair to Jane or himself.

Now, if he could just find a way to explain that to his daughter.

First, he had to find his daughter. He tried the bedchamber she’d been sharing with Belle and Callie while they were in town, but the nursery maids had just realized Larissa had disappeared and begun searching the other chambers nearby. He asked them to stand down, reassured Callie and Belle that everything was fine, and continued on.

But every room he tried was empty of human habitation, every alcove silent and bare. He should have realized Larissa would turn to only one person besides himself and Jane for comfort. His mother must have returned from her evening entertainment sooner than expected, for he found her reclining on the divan in her bedchamber, Larissa cuddled against her side, his daughter’s blue flannel nightgown at odds with the cream silk of his mother’s lace-bedecked gown.

“Larissa brought me some interesting news,” his mother said as his daughter buried her face in her grandmother’s shoulder.

“I’m sure she found it more disturbing than interesting,” he said. His mother swung her skirts aside, and he ventured to sit at the foot of the long, pink satin-covered couch. “I came to find you, Larissa. I want to explain.”

She sniffed, refusing to so much as look at him. “You kissed Mrs. Kimball.”

His mother was watching him, and he couldn’t tell from her expression whether she hoped he would deny it or confirm it.

“Yes, I did,” he said. “We both regret it very much.”

Larissa raised her head, the hollowness in her eyes echoing inside him. “You do?”

He nodded. “Sometimes even adults make the wrong choices. When we realize it, we work to rectify matters.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” his mother asked.

Her voice had a decided edge. Was she afraid he was going to discharge Jane, or marry her?

“Mrs. Kimball and I agreed the kiss was inappropriate,” he told them both. “It will not happen again. She is on her way to resume her duties.”

Larissa’s lower lip trembled. “So, she won’t be punished for breaking the rules?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it, but curiosity stopped the thought. “What rules do you think she broke, Larissa?”

She waved a hand. “Dozens! She breaks them all the time, and no one does anything. Servants are not to speak back to their masters, but she corrects me. People are to respect their betters, but she argues with you. Unmarried ladies are never to kiss a gentleman, but she kissed you!”

He felt as if he walked a tightrope like a performer at Astley’s. One misstep, and he would fall to his doom.

“I kissed her, Larissa,” he said. “The fault is mine and mine alone. She is your governess, not a typical servant. And as your governess it is her duty to correct you when you make a mistake.”

She pouted. “Who corrects her when she makes a mistake?”

“That is my role,” he told her. “One of the reasons she reports to me every evening is so I can learn about your progress and correct any mistakes she might be making.”

Still Larissa’s militant look didn’t ease. “But she’s telling you things about us. We aren’t allowed to explain our side of the matter.”

“Very well,” he conceded. “One of you may accompany Mrs. Kimball each evening, on a rotating basis. You may come tomorrow, Callie the next day, and Belle the day after.”

Larissa inclined her head graciously. “Thank you, Father.”

Her grandmother patted her shoulder. “There now. Back you go to the others. I’d like a few words with your father.”

Larissa scooted off the sofa and offered him a smile before heading toward the door. His mother rose and went to shut it after her. Then she turned to face him.

“What were you thinking? Your father wouldn’t have countenanced such behavior.”

He refused to wince, though the words were like a lash. “I know that, Mother. You can say nothing to me I haven’t already said to myself.”

“So it would seem.” She returned to the divan and fixed him with a stare. “Can you really put this behind you?”

“I must. Jane is too good with the girls.”

“There is that.” She leaned against the tilted back of the divan as if wearied by the whole affair. “I will look for another wife for you. I would have started before now, but I wasn’t sure you were ready.”

“I’m not.” He rose to pace the room. “I appreciate the offer, Mother, but I don’t want another arranged marriage. Is it impossible that I might meet the right woman, without anyone’s help?”

“Not impossible,” she allowed, “but unlikely. We are isolated at the castle, and you hate coming to town and attending the balls and such. My friends have any number of eligible daughters. I’m sure one will suit.”

He wasn’t. Try as he might, when he thought of courting, his stomach knotted. He didn’t want another stranger in the adjoining bedchamber, across the table at breakfast and dinner, in his arms on the ballroom floor.

He wanted Jane, and he couldn’t have her.

And that sounded like one of his daughters, denied a treat. He wasn’t a child. He wasn’t even a young man on the flush of his first encounter with a lady. He knew what was expected of him, what his family, staff, and tenants needed. He raised his head but couldn’t stop the sigh that came out.

“Very well, Mother,” he said, turning to face her. “Consult your friends, see who’s available. I will do my best to be civil.”

“Civility,” she said with a shake of her silver head, “will not be enough. Each of these young ladies has a host of suitors, some as titled and wealthy as you. If you want a second bride, you will have to be charming, witty, every inch the duke your father trained you to be.”

He nodded. “Understood. I will do what I must to win a bride.”

Even if his heart wasn’t in it.

 

~~~

 

They returned to the castle the next day.

“It’s been such a pleasure having you and the little girls with us,” the housekeeper said to Jane as they came down the stairs for the carriage. She wrung her meaty hands before her white starched apron. “I hope you’ll come again as soon as you can.”

Jane had a feeling soon would not be soon enough for Larissa or Mrs. Winters.

Alaric appeared to be in the greatest hurry to leave. He rode one of the town horses home, not even sitting in the carriage with her and the girls, as if they had contracted some dread disease. Neither he nor Larissa had mentioned the kiss, though Larissa had taken great joy in informing Jane that either her or one of her sisters would be accompanying Jane from now on whenever she made her report to their father. She wasn’t sure why he felt the need to distance himself. She wasn’t about to beg him for another kiss.

Even if she dreamed of another kiss.

She had no idea why she was so fixated on it. It wasn’t as if they could marry. He was her employer. He was a duke; she wasn’t even related to the aristocracy. She gave herself a good talking to before they reached the castle and settled back into their routine. She schooled herself each time she descended the stairs to make her report. No more intimate chess matches among the bookcases. No more sharing of thoughts, feelings. But then he’d greet her and his daughter, and her gaze would latch onto the lips that had caressed hers so sweetly. Or she’d ask him a question, and he’d shift on the chair, arms braced on the desk, and she’d remember the feel of his arms around her.

Oh, but she was lost.

She was merely glad the girls kept her so busy. Besides the usual lessons in the schoolroom, there was riding and painting. True to his word, the duke had hired a voice master who tutored Larissa and Callie twice a week. An elderly maestro from Spain, he was always gracious to Jane and encouraging of the girls.

Then there were Her Grace’s weekly teas. Jane had become adept at murmuring conversations with Patience along the wall while Lady Carrolton and Her Grace exchanged pleasantries and gossip and questioned the girls mercilessly. She wasn’t sure whether it was Patience’s influence or her own initial defiant act of walking out, but Lady Carrolton never prophesized doom for the girls again. When Larissa and Callie sang a duet, both dowagers seemed quite pleased.

“I think you have the worst lot,” Jane murmured to Patience one day as Lady Carrolton had complained about the weather, the government, and her health at such length that even Larissa was regarding her with concern. “Does she go on like that often?”

“Too often for those who know her,” Patience said. Then she grimaced. “Sorry. That sounded unkind. I am convinced a vibrant, caring woman lives inside that bitter shell. I just haven’t found a way to bring her out.”

Lady Carrolton began sniffing then, and Patience hurried to offer her vinaigrette, which she proceeded to breathe over, shuddering each time to the macabre fascination of the girls. She had raised a hand, likely to wave off Patience, when she froze. “What is that?”

Jane squinted, then jumped to her feet. A spider dangled on its silken thread from the high ceiling. Even as she started forward, it dropped to the tea tray. Lady Carrolton stared at it in horror, but Her Grace’s look was more concerned, and it was trained on Callie.

Larissa put her arm about her sister. “It’s all right. It can’t hurt you.”

Belle didn’t seem so sure, pushing back in her seat and tucking her feet up under her skirts.

Jane had nearly reached the table when Callie shrugged out of Larissa’s hold and rose. Jane readied herself for the scream, the dash from the room. Instead, Callie brought her hand down with a mighty whack, setting the tea things to rattling.

Jane jerked to a stop. Callie twisted her hand to eye the carnage on her glove, then glanced up at Jane with a grin.

“You were right, Mrs. Kimball. They are squishy.”

Lady Carrolton fainted.

“And then I smashed it,” Callie told her father that night when she came with Jane to make her report.

“Very brave of you,” Alaric said with a nod.

“You don’t have to be brave with spiders,” Callie said. “They’re squishy. Mrs. Kimball told me so, and she was right.”

“She often is,” he said. His gaze brushed hers, fleetingly, admiringly, like a caress to her cheek. That feeling of loneliness stole over her again. She had to fight against this melancholy!

It was from Patience that she learned of the upcoming dinner party.

“It would be too much to hope you’d be invited as well,” she said, fingers twined around the handle of the box in her lap. “I’ll be sitting beside her ladyship and her daughter, of course, but I doubt anyone will say the least word to me. We companions tend to be invisible until needed.”

“If it’s a fancy dinner party, the girls won’t be attending,” Jane said. “No girls, no need for a governess.”

“That’s just it,” Patience said. “I understood from her ladyship that the girls will be expected to attend at least part of the time. His Grace is seeking a mother for them, after all. Perhaps he wants their opinion.”

Her body felt heavy, as if someone had slung a sodden blanket over her shoulders. “More likely the duchess wants them on display. Might as well know what you’re getting into.”

Patience sighed. “Three darling girls and a handsome, wealthy duke for a husband. Most women I know would want to accept.”

Jane aimed her gaze at her hands, afraid what her face would reveal. “You’d marry him, then, if given the chance?”

“A fellow like the duke isn’t likely to notice me,” Patience said. “I’m invisible, remember? And there are moments I far prefer it that way.”

Lady Carrolton began gagging. Jane caught Patience’s hand as she rose. “If you ever want another position, I may know someone who could help.”

Patience offered her a grateful smile before going to see to her mistress.

Jane was still thinking about Patience’s words when she took Belle to report to the duke that night. Parsons let them in with his usual proper demeanor. He at least seemed pleased that Jane and Alaric were nothing more than polite to each other. But Belle paid the butler no mind. She ran to climb up into her father’s lap. Jane’s heart turned over as Alaric bent to rub noses with Belle, who giggled. So much for being cold and unreachable.

Jane took her seat opposite them and waited to begin until he looked up. Once again, those green eyes were kind, trusting. She fisted her hands in her lap to keep herself focused.

“Everything is going well, Your Grace. Larissa and Callie are learning a new song, and Belle wrote out an entire verse today.”

Belle nodded, golden curls brushing his paisley waistcoat. “‘Heaviness in the heart of man maketh it stoop: but a good word maketh it glad.’ Mrs. Kimball says that means we should say nice things to people.”

His smiled brushed Jane. “Very wise.”

“I’m going to say nice things to our new mother,” Belle said.

He stiffened. Jane held her breath. Deny it. Please deny it.

“Why do you think you’re getting a new mother, Belle?” he asked, so cautiously he might have been holding his breath too.

“Callie said that Betsy said that Grandmother’s maid said that Grandmother said…” she paused. “Yes, that’s right. Grandmother said you needed to marry again. And Larissa said so too.” She nodded as if that was the end of the matter.

“Very likely I will marry again,” he told her daughter, the fact like a knife in Jane’s chest. “But rest assured I will consider you and your sisters before I do.”

Jane breathed, but not without a pang. Of course he must marry. She had the luxury of mourning Jimmy all her life, if she wanted. He needed a son.

“Promise?” Belle asked.

“Promise,” he said. “Never doubt a duke.”

Jane forced her voice to come out. “I understand there’s to be a dinner party soon. Do you want the girls to attend?”

“Perhaps someone can bring them while we gather in the withdrawing room before dinner,” he said. “Betsy can escort them if you like.”

He was keeping her safely away from the others. Probably for the best. Who knew what she’d blurt out? He’d have a lot of explaining to do if she confessed her feelings. Yet she longed to know who would be in attendance, how he reacted to them. If only she could be mouse in the corner, one of the painted cherubs on the ceiling.

Or a little girl with a large propensity to repeat exactly what was said to her.

 

~~~

 

The night of the dinner party, Alaric stood near the hearth, well aware his back was to the wall. He finally understood the choice of certain ladies to hide behind potted palms, for if his mother had consented to bring a tree into the withdrawing room, he’d have been sorely tempted to take refuge.

Of course, the obvious spot to hide had been the library, and he was almost willing to forego the night’s dubious pleasure for work. Several more troubling accounts had come in about thefts of food and clothing, barns broken into. He couldn’t help wondering whether Simmons was intent on enacting vengeance. He’d assigned Willard to investigate the matter, which, he supposed, meant he had the luxury of socializing for the moment.

Her Grace and Lady Carrolton had arranged for three of the most elegant young ladies of their acquaintance to be in attendance, along with their mothers and fathers, brothers, and assorted friends. It was a congenial group, conversing easily. After all, it wasn’t every day that the Hermit Duke entertained. At the moment, he felt more like King Louis facing the mob.

Unlike the mob, however, they were all lovely, appropriately educated, well bred. They smiled as they responded to his attempts at conversation. But Lady Elspeth, pale hair shining, kept glancing at the door as if she was just as eager to escape. The statuesque Lady Lilith prickled at the least sign he might disagree with her opinions, setting her black ringlets to quivering. And the titian-haired Lady Fredericka eyed him as if she expected him to bolt from the room, which was certainly preferable to standing here on display.

“I recognize that smile,” Gregory, Lord Carrolton, said, joining Alaric along the wall. “It’s the same one you’d give the dons when they enquired whether you were ready for the exam, and we all knew you’d spent the previous day riding.”

Alaric chuckled despite himself. “I hope you’ll be as congenial when I refuse to offer for your sister.”

His friend glanced at Lady Lilith, who was glowering at Miss Ramsey as she waved the vinaigrette under their mother’s nose. “She is an intelligent, devoted woman. But I’d understand completely if you choose not to wed her.”

He felt for the fellow. Powerfully built, with a deep booming voice, Carrolton always seemed in command of any situation, except when it came to his mother and sister.

“Is there nothing that can be done for your mother’s affliction?” Alaric murmured.

Carrolton sighed. “I’ve had the best London physicians examine her, and all claim she is perfectly healthy. If it wasn’t for Miss Ramsey, I’d be tempted to run off and play pirate with Harry.”

Alaric grinned at the mention of their other friend, Sir Harry Orwell, whose home along the coast had once sheltered pirates and smugglers. “Pirate, or spy?”

Carrolton’s eyes widened. “Did he agree to work for the War Office, then?”

“You didn’t hear it from me.”

The girls’ arrival prevented further conversation. He had suggested that Betsy bring them, but it was Jane who stood behind them in the doorway. She was wearing a burgundy-colored gown with simple lines that called attention to her curves. Perhaps it was the color that made her face seemed flushed. Regardless, her eyes sparkled with mischief, as if she intended to thoroughly disrupt this staid, lifeless party.

He would have paid good money to see her do it.

He forced his gaze to his daughters in their dainty white gowns, each one with a different-colored ribbon around the waist. At least Jane had allowed them that much originality while they waited for their London clothes to arrive.

Among so many strangers, they hung back. Belle was clinging to Jane’s skirts, Callie was half hidden behind her, and even Larissa shifted from foot to foot. He pushed away from the wall and strode to meet them.

“And here are the prettiest ladies of my acquaintance,” he told them, smiling down at them. Larissa returned his smile. Callie straightened, and Belle transferred her fingers from Jane’s skirts to his black evening breeches.

He lowered his voice for Jane’s ears alone. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she said. “Sure you’ll be all right?”

Not at all. “They’re my daughters,” he said aloud. “I’m proud of them.”

All three of them beamed at him.

With a smile of encouragement, Jane faded out the door, and he had to stop himself from following.

He turned instead, putting the girls in front of him. “My lords and ladies, may I present my daughters, Lady Larissa, Lady Calantha, and Lady Abelona.”

The gentlemen, mostly fathers or brothers of the debutantes or husbands of his mother’s friends, all inclined their heads in greeting. One of the older women raised her quizzing glass and squinted at the girls through it as if measuring every inch. Lady Lilith stepped back, chin up, as if his girls had brought the pestilence. Her mother sneezed in quick succession. Miss Ramsey hurried to offer a handkerchief.

“What lovely young ladies,” Lady Fredericka said, venturing closer, her sapphire-colored skirts swaying. “Why, I would be smitten with jealousy if they came out with me.”

Callie cocked her head. “Why?”

She bent and tweaked one of Callie’s limp curls. “Because you’re just so adorable.”

“Larissa and Calantha are taking singing lessons,” his mother informed the guests. “They are becoming quite proficient.”

Lady Fredericka straightened. “Perhaps you would favor us with a song.”

Larissa shook her head, backing away until she bumped against Alaric’s leg. He lay a hand on her shoulder in support. “Perhaps another time.”

He felt her sigh of relief.

“I’ll sing,” Belle declared. “I know a song Mrs. Kimball taught us.”

“No!” He brought his other hand down on her shoulder even as Lady Fredericka’s brows rose, very likely at his strident tone. “That is, I think it would be better if we conversed with our guests. Mother, would you take Larissa around?”

His mother stepped forward, and Larissa all but ran to her.

Lady Fredericka filled the space his daughter had vacated. “I would be delighted to converse with little Calantha, Your Grace. I’m sure we have much to discuss.”

He glanced at his middle daughter, who was frowning at Lady Fredericka. She wanted to talk to Callie. Callie, who was known to blurt out every secret, annoyance, or embarrassment anyone in his household had ever uttered in her hearing. Callie, who could very well frighten away any lady who might show interest.

He smiled. “What an excellent idea. Calantha, be sure to speak to Lady Elspeth and Lady Lilith as well. I’m sure they’d love to listen to whatever you care to say.”